


Thawed

by footloosest



Category: Saint Seiya, 聖闘士星矢黄金魂 | Saint Seiya: Soul of Gold
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-15
Updated: 2015-09-06
Packaged: 2018-04-14 19:14:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4576491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/footloosest/pseuds/footloosest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to Dead. A look at the history of Camus-Milo friendship from Camus' first day in the Sanctuary up to the events in SoG. Alternates between flashback and present SoG timeline.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Sanctuary, thirteen years ago**

_"Oy, Milo."_

_Milo did not look up from where he'd made two crickets fought each other. "What?"_

_Aiolia squatted beside him. "There's a new kid."_

_"So?"_

_"This one's a bit weird."_

_Milo glanced at him briefly then back at the crickets. "How weird?"_

_"Well, he never talks and has his nose stuck in a book most of the time. No one can divert his attention...not even Angelo."_

_That got Milo's attention. It seemed the newcomer was different from other saint trainees who were either chipper bores like Aiolia or bullying jerks like Angelo. Certainly he had to be something if he dared to defy the Cancer gold saint candidate and his gang. "Where is he?"_

_"Over there." Aiolia pointed to the edge of the small hill and Milo stood along with him, abandoning the crickets for once._

_In the clearing below them, a turquoise-haired, delicate-featured boy about their own age was surrounded by a group of older boys. He was reading a book, alright, and did not seem to notice taunting faces around him._

_"Nice hair,_ Sister _," Angelo mocked. "Where did you get it colored?"_

_Without even a twitch in his expression, the boy got up from his seat on a flat rock and sauntered to a spot beneath a shady tree, as if the older kid had been no more than a buzzing gnat._

_Enraged, Angelo kicked a pebble that landed right in the middle of the boy's book._

_The boy simply flicked it off and continued reading._

_For some reason, his cold indifference bothered Milo more than Angelo's crudeness. "Hey!" he shouted, making Aiolia jumped. "Are you going to just let him kick you around like that?"_

_"Stay out of this, Scorpio!" Angelo shouted back, then an evil grin slowly spread on his face._

_"Uh-oh," Aiolia whispered._

_The older boy approached the new kid and reached out to tear a page of his book._

_Aiolia gasped, but not out of horror for the newcomer, Milo soon realized, as he saw, amidst the shocked stares of the onlookers, that Angelo's arm had been frozen solid up to his elbow._

_The stranger boy, looking up for the first time from his reading, turned his gaze from where he'd apparently caught Angelo's wrist with one hand to his bully's eyes with an icy-cold look that even made Milo shiver._

_Angelo was apparently not prepared for this reversal of situation, and the cruel glee on his face dissolved into an expression of horror and disbelief. Yet it was not without reason that he was known as Deathmask among his peers. With a flare of his cosmo, he broke free of the ice shackle and sent the new boy flying to the ground._

_A commotion ensued as the gang attacked the new boy, apparently taking the clue from their leader's action. The boy surprisingly held his own against them, moving in swift and precise attacks completely belying his calm demeanor. Before long half of the opponents had been frozen in one way or another, yet with Angelo having fully recovered his arm and the boy being outnumbered five to one, they quickly regained the upper hand. Angelo smiled as he had his target cornered, panting, ready to avenge his earlier humiliation._

_"SCARLET NEEDLE!"_

_There were screams as some of the bullies fell to the ground, writhing in pain. Milo had jumped into the foray with Aiolia in tow, his index finger poised for attack with long, sharp red nail._

_"I told you to stay out of this, you filthy insect," Angelo growled menacingly. "What's your business with this freak here anyway?"_

_"Nothing," Milo said calmly. "I just hate cowardly bastards who gang up on smaller, younger kid."_

_"You asked for it." Angelo raised his hand. "DARK WORLD WAVES!"_

_The clearing soon turned into a violent battlefield as the two groups of young saint candidates clashed against each other. It was rather an unequal fight though, as the combined power of Milo, Aiolia and the new kid was already more than a match for the bullies, and even Angelo could see he was not going to get his way today._

_"Retreat!" He roared to his followers and pointed a finger at Milo. "This is not over yet."_

_Milo returned his threat with a bestial smile. Angelo shot him one last poisonous look before turning around to leave with his battered soldiers._

_Milo turned to find the new boy quietly picking up his book from the ground and dusting it. "You alright?"_

_The boy did not even so much as glance at him as he sat back on his previous reading spot. Milo's temper suddenly flared and he slapped the book out of the boy's hand._

_"Will you stop looking at that damned book!"_

_The boy whirled toward him, sending a blaze of ice his way, and Milo was almost gleeful to see, finally, a spark of fury in the cold dark blue eyes._

_Before long they were rolling on the ground, grunting and punching each other. They only stopped when the astonished and panicked Aiolia hissed loudly, "The Pope's comin'!"_

_Milo, who now looked a bit worse for wear, let go of the boy's neck and turned to run, but bumped instead into a tall figure wearing long black cloak._

_"What is happening here?"_

_The voice was soft and calm, yet Milo had never heard anything more intimidating in his life._

_"It was Deathmask...I mean, Angelo, sire!" Aiolia sputtered. "He and his gang were bullying the new boy, and Milo helped him fight them off."_

_"Is that so?" The Pope continued to look at Milo. "Then why were you two fighting?"_

_Milo was usually good with answers, but at the time he could not think of anything to say. His temper had frequently gotten the best of him and the Pope had warned that if he could not control himself, he would be in danger of being expelled from the Sanctuary. And Milo was not going to return to where he'd come from again._

_"I started it, sire."_

_Shocked, Milo and Aiolia whipped their heads to the new boy, who had spoken for the very first time. He looked evenly at the Pope as his hand wiped dirt and blood from the corner of his mouth._

_"I was angry he helped me, thinking I could handle my opponents myself. So I hit him."_

_The Pope's violet eyes regarded the boy carefully. "It's not like you to do that, Camus."_

_"It wasn't him," Milo heard himself spoke up. "I hit him first because he ignored me."_

_The Pope turned his attention to him, and Milo felt his face hot with embarrassment._

_"I am deeply disappointed with you," the Pope said. "If you can get provoked with the slightest disturbance, there is no way you will be able to master self-control that is essential to becoming a saint."_

_"Angelo does not seem to need it," Milo blurted before he could stop himself._

_"There's a difference between being reckless and being cruel," said the Pope. "Angelo loves to fight and can be a bit of a bully, but he is no dumb brute. And neither are you. You can be so much more than he ever will be, if only you'd control that rage and power, and I want you to realize that potential. Otherwise, you will only waste your time here." He turned. "I think you need some down time to think about your actions."_

_Milo felt his heart sank._

_"Sire," the Camus boy began hesitantly, but the Pope lifted up a hand._

_"The stairs of the twelve temples have gotten quite dirty. Maybe you can help sweeping the dead leaves. I want them all to be cleaned by supper." He began to walk away, then stopped, as if having second thought. "Camus, I think Milo will need a hand. Perhaps you two can sort it out as you work. I will return later to check how you are doing."_

_Milo deflated. He HATED sweeping, and working with the Ice Boy would make it even more agonizing. Yet he figured it was much better than being expelled as he'd previously thought._

_The Pope then led Aiolia away."Come, young man. I need you to tell me what happened. Maybe I will have a little chat with your Cancer friend."_

_Aiolia looked helplessly at Milo before the Pope teleported them both away._

_The two boys walked to their punishment in silence._ At least Angelo is not going to walk away from it easily either, _Milo thought, and that made him feel better._

_Camus quickly set to work as they approached the stairs. Milo eyed him and decided to swallow his pride._

_"Thank you for trying to save me," he said before he could change his mind. "And I'm sorry I hit you earlier."_

_Camus did not react and Milo felt stupid. But then came an answer, "Just forget it."_

_They worked in silence for a while. Milo noted that Camus was just as swift and efficient in sweeping floor as he was in fights. "Where are you from?"_

_Another stretch of silence before the other boy answered, "France."_

_"Why do you want to become a saint?" Milo asked after another five minutes._

_Camus took a longer time to answer. "So I can protect helpless people."_

_Milo sighed. From the way they held this conversation, it looked like it was going to be one long day._

* * *

**Asgard, present time**

He tried to get up, struggling to peel his eyelids open. But no matter how hard he tried, the darkness kept pulling him under. He tried to scrape any strength left from within him, but there was none. It was as if all his energy had been sucked, lost to the numbing coldness and burning fire.

Cold. Fire. It had been years since he felt them both at the same time...

* * *

**Sanctuary, thirteen years ago**

_"Are you alright?"_

_Milo looked up to find Camus standing behind him, an expression like concern in his usually unreadable dark blue eyes._

_"I will be," Milo muttered through gritted teeth. He was covered in cold sweat as he crouched beneath the apple tree and held his right hand in death grip, trying to withhold the excruciating pain burning through his whole body._

Dammit, _he thought._ I thought I already got it under control. If this continues I will be dead in minutes.

_"You sure you don't need help?" Camus asked, crouching beside him._

_"It's nothing you can help with," Milo growled. "Just go away."_

_Suddenly he felt a burst of cold energy from his back, penetrating his body, flowing in his veins. It felt icy yet soothing at the same time. It pushed the scorching pain from the poison emanating from his right hand, further and further until it became a small, concentrated point on the tip of his index finger._

_Amazed, Milo turned to the other boy. "Uh...thanks. How do you...?"_

_Camus lifted his hand from Milo's back and looked at him with curious expression. "The Pope saw you and told me about your...condition. So you live all this time…with that poison in your body?"_

_Milo nodded as he leaned back on the tree trunk, his body temperature dropping, his breathing returning to normal. "I got stung by a rare venomous scorpion when I was five. My parents were too busy with their other four kids so by the time they found me it was too late. The nearest hospital was about five miles away and people said I would have died by the time I got there. My parents would rather call an undertaker than waste the scrap of money they had for hospital fee when it was clear I wouldn't survive anyway." He smiled bitterly. "I was left alone to die, but then I thought I heard footsteps and someone lifted me and poured some liquid into my mouth. I tried to resist, but I was too weak and finally just swallowed it. The next thing I knew, I was already in hospital with this weird green-haired old man beside me."_

_"Pope Shion?" Camus' eyes widened._

_"Yeah. He told me he'd tried to neutralize the scorpion venom, but some of it still lingered in my blood circulation and if I exerted myself too much, it could endanger my life. But if I would go with him he would introduce me to someone who could teach me to control the poison and turn it into something else. I had no other choice, so I agreed." He lifted his right hand to look at the reddish tint on his skin. "He brought me to Milo island—that was how I got my new name—to see Asclepius, the Ophiuchus silver saint and expert in medicine. It was him who taught me how to use my cosmo to concentrate the venom in my blood to one focused point and use it as a weapon."_

_"The Scarlet Needle," Camus deduced, nodding. "But you are still...working on it."_

_Milo scowled. "He believed I might be able to master it faster without his help, if I am under death threat all the time."_

_They fell silent for a while. Then Camus asked, "So you trained all this time just to survive?"_

_Milo smirked. "That was my thought at first. But then...I was thinking it might be fun to use this stinger on people who really deserve it. Like maybe child-beaters, thugs, murderers..." He lifted his index finger, examining the sun glinting at the pointed tip of the red nail. "That was what drove me to come to Sanctuary. To become strong enough to change fate, to make sure I will never again feel that helplessness I felt when I was too weak to help myself and others. And I think the Pope saw the determination in me. That's why he hasn't kicked me out, though I have only been getting into troubles since I came here."_

_Camus studied him for a moment, then stood and began climbing the apple tree behind them._

_"What are you doing?" Milo asked, puzzled._

_An apple bounced off his head in answer._

_"Hey, watch it!" he said, annoyed._

_Camus hopped down from the lowest branch and wiped one of the apples with his tunic before giving it to Milo. "You'll need a lot of this if you want to be healthy and strong enough to grow your cosmo and control that poison."_

_Stunned, Milo picked the apple and bite into it. It was very sweet and juicy, and before he knew it, he had eaten the whole fruit._

_"It's tasty alright," he said. He'd never tasted apples before, and no one had ever offered him to try._

_Camus, who had also taken a bite, offered another one to him. "Some more?"_

_Apples had, since then, become Milo's favorite food._


	2. Chapter 2

_Milo of Scorpio was friend with everyone._

_Or more precisely, he was not close to anyone_   _in particular._

_He was often seen playing and bickering with Leo Aiolia, eating lunch with Taurus Aldebaran, sparring with Aries Mu, and chatting with Virgo Shaka, all of whom were prodigies like him who had been promoted as gold saints at tender age of seven._

_But in down moments, such as when studying for exams or tired from practice or in need of some quiet, he was most often seen with turquoise-haired, rarely-spoken Aquarius Camus. And when they were together, no one would have suspected the blue-haired boy reading quietly alongside the French youngster as the wild Milo of Scorpio._

_Their friendship started when Camus saved Milo's life by preventing the scorpion venom in the boy's right hand from spreading to the rest of his body. Milo finally developed his cosmo enough to control the venom that almost killed him as a child and, with Camus assistance, turn it into signature weapon in not just one, but both of his hands, earning him the Scorpio gold cloth. Camus also helped Milo with his studies and introduced him to finer things such as literature and music, while Milo helped the French boy learn Greek culture and lifestyle and took him to great natural spots around Sanctuary. When they were not hiking or diving in the cliffs, they could be seen learning piano in the auditorium or reading in the steps of Aquarius temple, Milo totally immersed in suspense and detective stories while Camus enjoyed the Greek mythology._

_It was a wonder to all as to how they got along in the first place, especially after their rough start. After all, Aquarius and Scorpio were not supposed to be the most compatible of the signs. The two boys, however, had become unexpectedly drawn to each other's differences and found comforting foil to their respective characters in one another. For Camus' part, the day when he cured Milo from his 'symptoms' proved to be the first of gradual unraveling of the enigmatic Scorpio's many layers of personality. Under the cool and harsh exterior, Milo proved to be intensely loyal and passionate, his warmth, curiosity and love of life rubbed on Camus and brought out his spirited, more passionate side, something Camus felt strangely liberating_ _. Milo, on the other hand, had found Camus' calm understanding and detached, quiet demeanor to be strangely comforting, especially when he just had a bad day or simply needed some quiet where he could just drop all pretenses and let his true feelings shown. The Aquarius' quiet yet steady companionship was like a cool breeze that calmed his turbulent emotions and restlessness, bringing out his better, more sensible side. It was therefore no wonder that, despite being social with everyone, Camus was Milo's preferred company in less cheerful days._

_Today was one of such days._

_The Sanctuary had been shaken by the news that Sagittarius Aiolos, a senior gold saint who was also Leo Aiolia's older brother, had been exterminated for trying to kill the pope and deceive the Sanctuary with fake infant Athena. It was not clear how he was killed, for his body (and the infant) was nowhere to be found, but rumor had it that Shura was the one ordered to do the task. This left Aiolia completely devastated and the other younger gold saints shaken, as Aiolos, who was seven years older than them, had always been a natural-born leader and caring father figure they all looked up to._

_Camus had not been in the Sanctuary long enough to know Aiolos as well as Milo and the others, but from his several encounters with the older saint, Camus could not help but develop deep respect and admiration toward him. It was just as unimaginable to him as to everyone else that somebody as kind, honest and brave as Aiolos could fall into such lows._

_Camus found Milo beneath the apple tree where they'd first eaten apples together and had since become their unofficial meeting point. He often came there to read, as the tree was located on a small hill that gave him a good vantage point overlooking the whole Sanctuary. Milo usually went there when he needed a listening ear or a quiet company, and whenever_ _Camus saw him there, he knew something wrong had happened._

_He sat quietly beside the other boy and for a moment they did not say anything._

_"You've heard, haven't you?" Milo asked_.

_Camus glanced sideways and saw that Milo's eyes were rimmed with red. "Yeah," he said. "How's Aiolia?"_

_"Beyond consolation," Milo answered. "Aldebaran is with him now."_

_"It's understandable," Camus said. "Aiolos was his only family, and he loved Aiolia very much."_

_Milo wiped his nose. "I just can't imagine Aiolos of all people would do that."_

_"Me neither," Camus agreed. "I haven't known him as long as the rest of you, but even I can't believe he is that sort of person."_

_"Appearance can be deceiving though," Milo said after a moment, leaning against the tree trunk. "I've learned it from all those mystery books. Often the culprits are those people suspect the least."_

_"But Aiolos did not have any reason to kill the Pope," Camus thought aloud. "He was bound to succeed Master Shion anyway."_

_"Yeah," Milo agreed. "If anything, Saga was more likely to do it. He was Aiolos' strongest contender for the papacy."_

_Camus thought for a minute. "Have you seen him around, by the way?"_

_"Who, Saga?" Camus nodded. "Not since a couple of days ago, I think. Maybe he is out on a mission." Milo squinted at him. "You're not saying..?"_

_Camus shrugged. "You said yourself he has more reasons to do it than Aiolos."_

_"Yeah, but I said_ if anything.  _Saga_   _wouldn't have done that. He and Aiolos were good friends," Milo argued. "Even Saga himself once said Aiolos would make a better Pope than him. You were there also, I think."_

_"I know. I didn't say he was guilty," Camus explained calmly. "I was just considering the possibilities. If appearances can be deceiving, like you said, then I don't see how Saga is any more innocent than Aiolos."_

_Milo opened his mouth to protest, but realized Camus had a point and shut it again. The two boys sat in silence for a while, thinking over all the possibilities and implications of the incident._

_"So I guess this means even the best saints can screw up, huh?" Milo suddenly asked._

_"We're humans after all, with so many weaknesses," Camus replied, lost in thought._ _"Even the greatest people in history have fallen into greed, envy, desire for power...like Shaka once said." He paused. "Who knows...we may sit side by side today, but I may try to kill you tomorrow."_

_Milo let out a small chuckle. "Don't think it will happen."_

_Camus looked at him, frowning. "How do you know?"_

_Milo shrugged. "Dunno. You just don't seem like a person who can do evil." He returned the other boy's gaze with his clear, azure blue eyes. "And I am not saying this because you have been good to me. I simply think you won't be easily tempted by all those things Shaka babbled about."_

_It was rare for Camus to fall silent because of loss for words. All his life he'd been avoided by most children his age, his cold indifference and aloofness made them suspicious of him. But this brash, obstinate boy he did not even like at first believed in him, though they really had only known each other for a short time._

_"And what if you are wrong?" He could not help but ask._

_Milo_   _did not answer right away as he picked up a ripe apple that had fallen on the ground and wiped it on his tunic. "Then I will do anything in my power to straighten you up, even if it's the last thing I will ever do." He took a big bite. "At least I can do that for you after all you have done for me."_

_The naked honesty in the Scorpio's words made Camus look away, trying to hide the sudden emotion rising to his throat. "Fair enough."_

_"And while we're on this subject," Milo said, devouring the last bit of his apple and throwing another at Camus, "can I ask you a favor?"_

_"What is it?"_

_Milo stood and looked at him. "If for some reason I ever try to lift a hand against Athena or innocent people," he said, "promise me that you'll lock me in that freezing coffin of yours before I can hurt anybody."_

_Something like a somber smile tugged at Camus' lips. "You have my word."_

* * *

**Asgard, thirteen years later**

He woke with a start and cast a quick look at his surroundings. For a moment he thought he was back in his old bedchamber in the Aquarius temple back at the Sanctuary. But as he took in the bear skin rug below him and the leopard hide covering the bed, he remembered where he was.

The realization drove away what little warmth that had enveloped him during the short dream and brought back the sinking cold.

He had been unable to rest and had sat beside the window, gazing at the stars. As he glanced back to the dark sky, he tried to make out a ruby red twinkle marking the Antares star that had been barely visible a short while ago. But it was already hidden from view, the snowstorm which had previously dissipated had picked up again and blotted the sky with dark clouds.

He turned from the window and lay on his bed, his arms crossed beneath his head.  _Is he dead then?_ he thought, not daring to mention the name. With the star disappearing, he could not tell for sure. He had not sensed any familiar cosmo vanishing, though, and the Asgardian soldiers were yet to find a body, so there was still hope.

Or so he wanted to believe.

The short dream he just had still lingered in his conscious mind. He had not recalled that childhood conversation for a long, long time. Oh, he did remember the pact when he came back to the twelve houses as Specter, condemning him as he was forced to ruthlessly attack his comrades and later his close friend with Athena Exclamation. But the details of the memory had become very vague to him, unlike tonight when they came back as clear as day, even down to the smell of sunlight and green grass of the Sanctuary.

Perhaps because, unlike the last time, he could not quite convince himself that he was doing this for the greater good.

He had begun to question himself when he sent Milo flying off the cliff with his Diamond Dust a couple of hours ago. Despite all intentions to keep his former friend alive, was it right to go as far as to injure a former comrade in order to redeem a personal sin? He'd been rationalizing his motives, telling himself that he was indebted to this, that he was trying to do the right thing, that he'd fulfilled his duties as Athena's saint in his first life and even after death and it was now time to keep an unfulfilled promise he'd made far before his sainthood days.

But no matter how he looked at it, it still seemed selfish. Especially since he still wore the Gold Cloth that symbolized where his allegiance lay.

Something tugged uncomfortably at his conscience as he took in the cloth box on the floor before him.

Just then he heard footsteps outside his door. He quickly blew out the candle and made a swift, soundless move to the door.

''Have you found him?" asked an unfamiliar voice from the hall.

"Not yet." It was Surtr. "I'm sure he won't be a problem for the time being, though. After receiving combined attacks from Camus and myself, and in Asgard's land no less, he's lucky if he can survive."

Behind the door, Camus tried to suppress the sudden feeling of self-loathing invoked by the words.

"Are you sure?" The other voice let out a sarcastic snort. ''Have you ever thought that his ice might have cancelled your fire, sparing the Scorpion from fatal injuries?"

"Say what you want, Sigmund," Surtr said evenly. "Camus will not betray me. And I don't think we should worry about the Scorpio, whether he's alive or dead. You know the Gold saints can't even use a tenth of their powers, what with Yggdrasil draining their Cosmo."

The footsteps receeded as the God Warriors continued to walk down the hall, and Camus let himself sag quietly against the wall.

He hoped that Milo, if he was still alive, would get his wordless warning and stay away from the complicated mess he could do nothing about.

 


End file.
